


Let's Get Married, Baby

by Cereza



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Lincoln Lives, Linctavia - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Octavia-centric, Probably in need of an edit, So Married, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cereza/pseuds/Cereza
Summary: Octavia hates the annual Griffin Christmas party...but having Lincoln there made it so much better. Everything was better with Lincoln...a little joke about them being an old married couple becomes something more.**Inspired by the song Married by Emily Kinney**





	Let's Get Married, Baby

Lights twinkled and danced all around them. The patterns changed, racing one way and then the other; fluttering and blinking. The colours faded in and out, changing with the pattern and bringing new life to the room. Garlands were wrapped around the banisters, sprigs of pine and bright tinsel, speckled with poinsettia flowers and golden petals. The tree, the focal point of the large room, was adorned and lit up, full of life and the merriment of the season. Baubles hung from the branches, glittering and sparkling as the light hit them. Nested in between the decorations were candy canes, sweet treats just waiting to be plucked off of the magnificent pine. Colourful boxes filled the space below the tree, carefully picked and wrapped and ready to be opened in just a few days’ time. Stockings were hung from the mantel, filled with secret treats and goodies just waiting for Christmas morning. Within the fireplace was a roaring fire, crackling and popping as the flames burned through the freshly cut logs. The comforting smell of a burning fire wafted through the room, the warmth following along right behind it. The live band played in the corner, orchestral versions of any Christmas carol that they could think of. Servers wandered around, offering drinks and bites of food to everyone they passed.  The din of clinking glasses and conversation became nothing but white noise as party-goers floated through the rooms, catching up with those they hadn’t seen since last year’s event, laughing comfortably with those they knew well, and warmly greeting new faces. The hustle and bustle of the holiday season was all around them; there was every reason to feel cozy and comfortable and merry.

Unless you were Octavia Blake. All she felt was out of place – like she didn’t belong here. She didn’t fit in with these people and this party was so far out of her comfort zone that she didn’t know what to do with herself. It was the same every single year, too. Each year this holiday party was put on, and each year she was invited – though she was sure it was by default. Over the years she had gotten better at coping with the ordeal. After the first couple of years, she had learned to sneak some food to the party in her purse – she found most of what the servers offered her looked completely inedible to her. Some years, she would curl up in front of the fire and munch on gummy candies and beef jerky, and enjoy the warmth. Usually she would show up, spend an appropriate amount of time mingling with the other party goers – those who spent most of the night looking down their noses at her – and then would retreat to some seat in the corner and just wait for the night to be over. She would have left early - or not gone at all - but Bellamy had always insisted that it would be rude. And so she came and she stayed. It would have been more bearable if at least one of her other friends were at the party – Monty, Jasper, Harper…someone. Raven had finally been invited the last couple of years, a welcomed point of company, but Raven was also better at blending in and mingling with the rest of the party-goers. So, even with a friend of her own at the party, Octavia spent most of the night on her own. At least, until this year.

This year she was finally able to convince the hosts to invite Lincoln. For the first time she wasn’t alone on this couch – and she wasn’t the only one that the rest of the party was looking down on. She could practically hear them rolling their eyes as she locked her lips with Lincoln’s - but seriously, look at him. How could she not? She knew they were talking about them, gossiping about how much wine the two of them had accepted from the servers and how much candy they’d scarfed down from the various candy bowls around the room - and the bags stashed in her purse. Octavia didn’t care. All she cared was that Lincoln had his fingers in her hair and she had her head on his chest. Nothing else mattered when she had him there.

“Look at you two love-birds over here,” Raven laughed as she took a seat in the chair across from them.

Octavia grinned back, a pretend look of sheepishness on her face and a mouthful of jellybeans, “hey, Raven.”

Raven nodded towards Lincoln, “how’s it feel to be on this side of the party?”

Lincoln chuckled, “it’s definitely something else.”

Like Octavia, Lincoln had been at this party year after year. Also like Octavia, he had been all but invisible save for a few derisive looks and comments. It was unfortunate, but it seemed like he wasn’t the only of the serving staff that was treated like they were “less than” during this event – but thankfully it wasn’t by everyone. Especially not Octavia. That was how they met, after all. He had brought her a countless number of wine glasses over the years and it hadn’t taken long for him to be swept away by the small brunette. He had served her for a couple more years, sneaking away on shift with her when he could, but this was the first year that he could just enjoy the party – and her company – and he was enjoying every minute of it. Especially the seemingly endless stream of wine that was coming their way.

He knew, though, that many of the guests remembered that he once served them at this party – and he could tell it rubbed them the wrong way that he was now also a guest.

“Got any more jelly beans?” Raven asked, her eyes wide with hope, “I’m starving. I get the canapes are ‘fancy’ or whatever, but they are food bites to feed a toddler.”

Octavia and Lincoln looked between each other, conversing without a single word before Octavia replied.

“Well…we’re almost out…”

“I get ya, it’s all good,” Raven sighed. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s kinda creepy when you guys do that telepathic conversation thing? God, you’d think you guys were married already.”

Octavia smacked Lincoln on the shoulder, “see? I don’t really wanna be at this party anymore…and besides we’re running out of jellybeans.”

Lincoln laughed, “so that means we should go get married?”

“Yes!” Octavia laughed, her voice light and playful.

“It’s such a beautiful night, after all.”

“So let’s get married! And then we can go home.”

Raven rolled her eyes, “you guys are ridiculous. I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Neither could Octavia, but it was fun to play along with it anyway.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Octavia replied, quirking her eyebrow and popping another handful of jellybeans into her mouth.

“Oh my god, I am exhausted,” Bellamy exclaimed, coming over and collapsing on the couch next to his sister.

“What, is Clarke running you ragged?”

He groaned in response.

For years, this party had been organized and run by Clarke’s mother, Abby. It had started as a small gathering of a few select co-workers from the hospital. Slowly it expanded to most of the hospital staff, and then to a few of the donors that she had gotten to know through work, and then to other movers and influencers. Somehow it grew and eventually it became the event it was today: filled with the high-brow society members that would gleefully brag about being invited. The event always went perfectly, without any issues or problems, and Abby prided herself on successfully hosting the perfect party for several years in a row. And perfect they really were: they were talked about for months, if not years, to follow.

Until this year. This year she passed the mantle to Clarke. Clarke had been asking to help host the party since she was old enough to finally attend. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected her mom to say “yes” let alone let her take the helm. There was a lot to live up to, and so much more went into planning the event and keeping it running smoothly; it was more than she could have ever expected. That was probably why Clarke was stressed out beyond any description. And when Clarke was stressed, Bellamy was stressed, because he would do anything to try and take the burden off of her. Even if it meant missing out on the party and running around like his pants were on fire just to keep everything – and everyone – afloat.

“I just need like…five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for…is that so much?” He asked, running his hands across his face.

_ “Bellamy? Where are you? Drink station 4 is out of ice and Tanya broke her corkscrew so I need you to grab another one. Bellamy?” _

Clarke’s voice came through his headset. Bellamy ripped the headset from his ears, desperate for even a single moment of reprieve. A moment of silence. He never thought that there would ever be a day, a reason, that he would want a moment of peace from Clarke – but here it was. But it wasn’t even that he wanted a break from her – it was this whole party. He missed being a guest and not a host; it was a happier time. A simpler time. He envied Octavia and Lincoln and Raven...maybe he could try to blend in with the crowd, even just for a little while…

“Wow, he didn’t respond to Clarke. Are you feeling okay?” Octavia placed her hand on her brother’s forehead, pretending to check for some sort of temperature or symptom of whatever illness simply must be causing this strange behavior.

“Ha ha,” Bellamy said, dryly. “You know I haven’t even had a chance to eat yet? I keep trying to grab something off the trays as they fly past me, but it’s like Clarke knows every single time. I won’t even get it to my mouth before some other crisis comes up, some fire to put out. And I mean that literally – there have been two small fires in the kitchen in the last couple of hours. This is nuts. How did Abby do this every year – all on her own?”

“She wasn’t on her own,” Lincoln piped up, “she had Marcus. And everything you’ve just said was exactly what he used to say to me back then.”

Somehow that wasn’t as comforting to Bellamy as Lincoln had hoped it would be. Instead he just looked more defeated.

Octavia stifled a laugh, “awe, poor Bell. The only food we have are these jellybeans, if you’d like – “

“Gimme!” Bellamy said, snatching a handful from the bag before she had a chance to take them away again.

“Hey!” Raven exclaimed, “so he can have some?”

Bellamy was just about to pop the colourful little candies into his mouth when he heard his name being called. This time it wasn’t on the headset – this time it was less than ten feet away from him.

“Bell! There you are. I need you,” Clarke said, walking up to the cozy little corner that her friends had claimed as their own. “Hey Octavia, Lincoln. Hey Raven. Bell, drink station 5 is out of ice too now, and the chocolate fondue pots need replacing, and the hot chocolate station is running out of mugs, and Taylor lost the key to the pantry so no one can get in to get more skewers for the prosciutto bites and –“

Bellamy cut her off, “it’s okay, princess. I’m on it. We got this.”

If Bellamy was at all disappointed to miss out on eating those jellybeans, he didn’t show it in the least. Hearing Clarke starting to spiral was more than enough to shake Bellamy out of whatever pity party he was about to sink into. All of his exhaustion and frustration absolutely vanished – replaced only with the innate need to help Clarke.

“Yeah, you guys got this,” Octavia said, raising her wine glass to Clarke.

“How much have you two had?” Clarke asked, the first to notice that both Octavia and Lincoln were on the cusp of having ‘too much.’ They weren’t drunk, but it was a slippery slope from where they were.

“Not enough!” Lincoln exclaimed, downing the last of his wine.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’s enough. I can’t have you guys drunk – not the first year I run this thing. Sorry, but I’m cutting you guys off,” Clarke said before hurrying off.

Bellamy shrugged apologetically and, before Octavia could yell at him, beat a hasty retreat to go deal with all the crises that had Clarke panicking.

“Well guys, you’re out of jellybeans and you’ve drank all the wine you’re gonna get. Now what?” Raven asked, getting up to go and mingle with the other guests.

“Yeah, now what?” Octavia pouted.

Lincoln shrugged, “I dunno about you, but I’m definitely ready to get out of here.”

It was an easy sell – without wine or snacks, Octavia didn’t really wanna be at this party anymore. And for once, Bellamy was too busy to notice if she stuck around or not. Leaving a pile of empty candy wrappers and snack bags, the couple grabbed their jackets and made their way through the crowded rooms and towards the exit. Along the way, Octavia managed to snatch another bottle of wine – one for the road.

The winter air was chilly and they could both see their breath dancing up into the night sky as they wandered down the street. The shock of the chill made them realize just how much wine they’d had to drink, but they could already feel their minds clearing. Their skin prickled with the chill and Octavia found herself tugging her jacket tighter against her. It wasn’t late yet, at least not by their standards, but the streets were already empty, completely abandoned, leaving just Octavia and Lincoln all on their own. Along the street were small shops and cafes, decorated and lit up for the holiday season. All around them lights twinkled in time with the stars above them. The moon, full and bright, lit their way and glinted on the slight sheen of snow that had coated the pavement sometime during the evening. At the end of the block, Octavia saw an archway of lights and pine garland – the perfect scene laid out in front of her.

“This street could be the aisle,” Octavia said dreamily.

It took him a moment to realize that she was still on about the joke about getting married. 

“But we’re all alone out here,” Lincoln protested, smiling widely. “We need guests to enjoy the moment with, or at least to act as witness.”

“Look around us!” Octavia exclaimed, her arms outstretched towards the sky “we have the moon and the stars!”

“And what about our friends? Bellamy? They might feel a little left out.”

Octavia smirked, “well, we’ll just have to call them in the morning. Everyone likes good news!”

Before he could say anything, Octavia’s attention was quickly changed as the two continued to wander their way down the block. Across the street was a small park – complete with a swing set. Octavia’s eyes lit up a childlike joy as she dashed off towards the park. With a smirk and a shake of his head, Lincoln followed dutifully behind, the open bottle of wine grasped tightly in his hand.

By the time Lincoln caught up, Octavia was already swinging high enough that the posts of the set were starting to lift from their holes in the ground. She was laughing deeply, the most intoxicating smile on her face.

“Careful up there,” Lincoln said, though he knew it would make no difference.

“C’mon! Swing with me!” She called out as she swung back and forth.

Lincoln took another deep swig from the bottle and buried its base into the gravel pit at the base of the swing set. He took up the spot next to Octavia and was soon swinging just as high as she was. He had all but forgotten the feeling of freedom and lightness that this childhood activity afforded. It brought the same sort of easy feeling that Octavia had introduced to his life – another feeling he had long forgotten about. This feeling of soaring through the air – of flying – was exactly what it felt like to love Octavia. Even though they were surrounded by a beautiful night sky and a sparkling winter wonderland, Lincoln found that he still couldn’t take his eyes off of the woman swinging next to him. How did he ever get so lucky?

“Jump!” Octavia yelled out as she leapt from her swing, actually soaring through the air, and landing unevenly on her feet before landing hard on her rear.

Lincoln broke out in laughter as he slowed his swing until he was able to step off. He could barely keep his footing he was laughing so hard as he made his way over to help Octavia back to her feet.

“You didn’t jump,” Octavia said, a slight pout on her lips.

The bottle of wine was quickly retrieved and they were on the move again, wandering through the trees that surrounded the small park. When the bottle was emptied, it was abandoned in some tree with great sadness. As they wandered, chatting away about nothing at all, Octavia would often dart forwards, hide behind trees and pop out as Lincoln passed by. It never succeeded in startling him, but she seemed to be enjoying herself nonetheless. Lincoln found it endearing, at least until she didn’t pop back out for a little longer than her pattern so far.

“Octavia?” Lincoln called out.

No answer.

“O?”

Still no answer.

“Octavia, where are you?”

His answer came by way of a snowball exploding against his face. For someone who had drank at least two bottles of wine on her own, the girl had impeccable aim, he would give her that.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Lincoln laughed.

He dug his hand down into the thin layer of snow that coated the ground. It took some time, but he was able to pull together a halfway decent snowball, and only by careful inspection managed to miss any rocks. He waited patiently until he caught a glimpse of her – a streak of colour as she darted from tree to tree, and let loose. His aim was a little less ideal as he was throwing at a moving target, but he caught her on her back, the snowball bursting into a fine powder upon contact. The impact was accompanied by a shriek and followed closely by another snowball fired his way. The war was on.

Snowball after snowball was let loose, fewer and fewer catching their intended target. Finally, her hands bright red with chill, Octavia raised her hands in surrender.

“Okay, you win,” she said.

Lincoln was skeptical and kept his most recent snowball at the ready as he walked towards her.

“What’s the trick?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“No trick, honest,” Octavia said sweetly.

She succeeded in convincing Lincoln that she had something up her sleeve, but he didn’t sort it out until it was too late. As soon as he was within range, Octavia reached out and gave him a playful shove. With slick ground below his feet and a hill to his side, Lincoln failed to keep his footing and was soon tumbling down the hill. He could hear giggling not far behind him as Octavia barrel-rolled down the hill too. He was sure that her trip down was probably much more fun than his, and would probably hurt a lot less in the morning. Finally he landed at the bottom of the slope, splayed out on his back and staring up at the night sky. Octavia soon landed next to him, also starting up into the black velvet above them.

Stars twinkled and danced above them. The patterns changed and they could never quite tell which star was going to brighten and fade each time. At one point, they watched as a star raced across the sky, trailing a bright tail behind them – another moment of childhood joy and wonder unfurled deep within them. All around them were evergreen trees, lightly kissed with snow and icicles nested between the branches. Lincoln could feel the warmth of the woman next to him, and suddenly he forgot all about the cold that had been seeping up from the ground. As they stayed there, sprawled on the ground, snow started to slowly flutter down once more. Snow was so rare here, where they lived, it was almost like a Christmas miracle that they had any snow at all this year. Soon they had a skiff of snow covering the ground around them, just enough that they could carve angels in the white blanket – which is exactly what Octavia did. She giggled as she went, and sat up to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

Lincoln sat up, his heart filled to bursting with love for the girl that, despite everything, still took the time to enjoy the little things like catching snowflakes and making snow angels. Suddenly he knew that, even if she had been joking all night long, he absolutely was not.

“Let’s get married.”

**Author's Note:**

> My writing is already getting a little rusty =\ I'm disappointed, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of it. 
> 
> Don't be surprised if this gets taken down sometime soon. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, y'all.


End file.
